Priceless
by randxgirl
Summary: COMPLETED! Triple H wouldn’t be at the “Grand Daddy of Them All”. But what reward does Daddy Paul Levesque get in return?


Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. This is just a product of trying to console myself that Paul missing this year's Mania actually has a reason…

Paul's P.O.V.

It's Saturday, February 24, 2007. I lie down on our bed in the master's bedroom of our house in New Hampshire, on this Saturday night, open the television, and try to find something decent on T.V. After 2 complete revolutions, I realize that there wasn't something good on. _Was it really this way every night?_

You might start wondering, "Who in the hell is this poor guy, who couldn't even find something to do or watch on a fine Saturday evening?" Well, I'm Paul Levesque, and for those who follow the world of sports entertainment, you'll know me as Triple H. For those who don't, well, I don't really think you're gonna understand what the hell I'm about to say, but I'm saying it anyway.

You see, as I've told you, I'm a professional wrestler. And that fact alone implies that seriously, I've got no time to really watch T.V. and actually follow the latest events in whatever sitcoms or drama series they have on air. Yeah, I know which shows exist, but I'm not actually aware what in the hell happens with them. I'm not used to staying in one place and truthfully: without work, without traveling, without wrestling, I'm at lost. I travel a lot, around 250 plus a day, and if only things were normal now, I wouldn't be lying down here, doing nothing, and trying to find something to do. "If only things were normal?" Yeah, if only things were normal…

January 7, 2007. That fateful night changed the course of my life, of my career. Who would have thought that while wrestling in a tag match with my best friend as my partner, something tragic would actually happen. Okay, maybe not really tragic, but it is for me. During that match, I tore my left quad. And if you didn't know, six years ago, I already tore my right. "So what?" Well, let's just put it this way. It is every football player's dream to be a part of the Superbowl. It is the ultimate wish of every NBA star to be in the championships, and grab the gold. It is every billiard player's goal to compete and rule the World Pool Championship. So for us wrestlers, we have a thing called "Wrestlemania". It's our own version of the Superbowl. And this year, for the first time since I first came here, I wouldn't be a part of it. I would be there, but I won't be THERE.

I'm gonna be very honest with you here, in telling you how I feel. It pains to go to therapy and undergo all those exercises to learn how to walk again. But it pains more to see Raw every Monday night, seeing angles and matches being set-up for Wrestlemania, and realizing that I could've been a part of them. But I'm not. It hurts to see someone else take "your spot" in the main event, to challenge John Cena for the WWE Championship. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for Shawn (whom they picked to replace me in that spot), he's my best friend, but the pain remains there. Well, I just hope he goes to do something I'm supposed to do initially, which I failed to do last year—win that championship and be back on top of the mountain. I guess if I can't be it, might as well someone closest to me be it, right?

As I turn my head to the left side of the bed, I see beside me lies my wife's laptop. Opening it, it saddens me to see the window of the Wrestlemania file open. Scanning down, I see that for the first time in twelve years, there would be no Triple H or Hunter Hearst Helmsley in the card. In a few minutes, she's gonna be working on that again. Again, for those who aren't aware, my wife heads up our creative division—the group who makes our storylines and set-up our angles. I miss the times when my wife and I would bicker with each other, because I have a thousand other options in mind for how my match would go, but she insists on that one single thing—just because that's what her father, our boss, Vincent K. McMahon want to do. Yes, I'm the boss's son-in-law. I know what you're thinking, and I'm leaving you to do that and think whatever you want.

So you see, this ain't easy. And you know, this all stemmed from a pay-per-view we didn't even have 4 years ago. New Year's Revolution is one of our newest pay-per-views, and it's just like some bonus p-p-v. Ironically, that's where all happened. That's what made me miss this year's Royal Rumble, which happens to supposedly be the most star studded in history. And as I've said, Wrestlemania. Have I told you that this year's Mania would happen live in front of 78,000 people? Could you just imagine the adrenalin? The rush? The atmosphere? Yup, all of those, I'm going to miss. But I'll be there, and even if I'm just backstage, I'll be living and feeling with those who would allow me to share that incredible feeling with them. Yeah, Shawn's gonna be out there two times bigger, 'cause I'll be with him in spirit.

My thoughts get interrupted at the sight of my wife entering our room, carrying in her arms our little bundle of joy, Aurora. That kid's something. At seven months, she's already got me tied around her little finger. And not only me, she's got every male member of Steph's and my family circling around her very palm. And when I say every, I really mean EVERY. God, I just wish she's gonna grow up disciplined and not spoiled. Well, let's see what we can do with that.

"I think someone's missing her daddy…" Steph approaches me and hands over Baby Roree to me, while I'm still half lying down. I sit back straight up, and carry her into my arms. I stare at my cute little darling, and examine her face. _She really does look like her mom. And that's something everyone's grateful about…but the attitude is definitely mine. As early as seven months, we could see a little me in her. A fighter, a survivor, a professional. _I stare into her big blue eyes, that remind me of the cool, relaxing ocean view my sister and I used to visit back home when we were still kids. With those loving, innocent eyes, all my frustrations get flushed away. She looked so innocent, so angelic. Yeah, she's definitely my angel.

I lie back down and allow her to just crawl on top of me, and enjoy the perks of having a wrestler as a dad. I'm sure she enjoys the feeling of crawling on top of cotton and stone mixed as one.

Steph's beside me and she's working intently on that window I told you about earlier.

"You know, you should really need to relax… can't you just work on that tomorrow?" I said, sensing the tiredness in her eyes, in her face and knowing that she's gonna be under stress again in a few minutes or hours.

Not taking her eyes off the screen of the laptop, she answers me, "I can't… this has got to be done by tomorrow. Or else, the old man's gonna flip… AGAIN."

I knew she would tell me that… 

Since she didn't seem to want to talk to me, I turn to my daughter in front of me, and decide to just talk to her. Or should I say, baby talk her. I cooed and after making those non-sense noise that for some reason babies find amusing, she looks at me and laughs. Oh, I love that hearing sound. And after more moments of baby talk and non-sense noise, one solitary moment made Steph look up from her laptop, and be in one with me in staring at our daughter in shock.

"Dada!"

_Wow! Oh my god… She just said her first word._ Her first word…

After the situation had sunk in, Steph and I looked at each other. _Was that for real?_

Our doubts were erased when we heard and see her do that again. "Dada!"

I hear my wife say excitedly, "Oh my god, baby, you just said your first word. Oh my goddd!!!" Then she took her from me.

It's real! Oh god, every pain I told you about a while ago, every hurt, every anxiety, every negative feeling, were now all gone. With that one single word, everything just suddenly felt fine.

I go back into a trance and start to wonder again. If I hadn't gotten injured, I wouldn't be here. I would be somewhere in the west competing and miss that very important moment, my first daughter's first word. If I hadn't gotten hurt, would her first word even be "dada", or would she even forget that I actually exist?

I think about Wrestlemania and the thought of me missing the roar of 78,000 people. But is there something wrong with me when I tell you that 78,000 cheers wouldn't mean anything to me now, compared to that one word from my kid? I'll rather miss the "grand daddy of them all", than miss this one moment in being a daddy.

I "wake" from my trance and tell my wife suddenly. "So, it seems like I won the bet. Your treat in a five star hotel?" We had a bet back then that our kid's first word would be our respective names. Both of us thought that it would definitely be her who's gonna win, 'cause they spend more time together. Though Steph's got a busier schedule, I get more tired, so most of the time, she's the one watching over her. _But who would have thought…_

"Fine, fine… so I guess my daughter doesn't love me that much, huh?" She jokes.

I envelope my wife, who has my daughter into a hug, and just relish this rare moment that we're together. I look at my wife of more than three years, and remind her of something she already knows. "Well, at least I love you so much that it's gonna be able to last you a lifetime." I was serious, and I hope she knew that.

With a smile that would make any guy's heart melt, and has made mine do in seven years, she jokes again, "Well, you better…"

We share a kiss, and I tell myself, _I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. It's moments like this that make life worth living. I may be a wrestler at heart, but I'm a family man first._

I think to myself, "_screw the 78,000 people, screw the excitement, screw the championship reign I'll get that next time. There is no next time in this moment. It is simply… priceless."_


End file.
